The Angst Filled Ramblings of a Teenage Guinea Pig
by Kokea Kianti
Summary: The whole movie in Magenta's point of view, including her opinions on Zach and what was going on when she wasn't on screen. My First Fic.
1. Chapter 1

I hate the bus ride to school. Sorry, just had to get that off my chest right off.

Eh… hi. My name is Magenta. My last name is irrelevant. All last names are. The super computers only really created last names so that they could organize us and keep us all in line. Therefore, I make a specific point as to not to write it on anything, not use it in common day language, and purposely interrupt during role call when Mr. Boy gives his sorry attempt at letting it out to the world. My. Name. Is. Magenta. End of story. Or rather, the beginning I suppose. After all, this is supposed to be MY story; I should be able to make it however I want. Short, long, whatever. You are all at the mercy of Magenta. Do I like the power? Ooooh, I like the power.

Let's see… where to begin? I guess I should start at school… er, maybe before school. Geez, who could have thought that writing a story about my life would be so… hard? Alright, alright, calm down now girl. No need to loose your cool. This'll be a snap. Breathe….breathe….

…Okay. Now I'm starting. Um, for real. Yeah.

Now. Back to the beginning. It all started on the first day of school… Sky High. I had just graduated from a normal, human Middle School. I had no friends, aside from an old friend named Ethan. He could melt. Yeah, I know, melting isn't all that great… in all honesty, he looks a little too much like spilt orange juice and dog urine for my own comfort. Still, he's a nice guy, from what I've gathered. I met him through my psychic mother. He's the son of a normal woman and a man who could control the weather. I'm not quite sure where melting has to do with weather. Hot heat, maybe? Or perhaps rain? Anyway, there's more to the beginning of the story. Oh yes. Much more.

I got on the bus with Ethan, safe and sound, right? And THEN, all of the sudden, these two kids walk on like they own the place. Well, not exactly. They walk on like normal kids. A guy and a girl. Both look like stereotypical Americana; the boy wearing red white and blue, the girl dressed like she just wandered out of a forest somewhere. Oh, this year was going to be fuuuun.

The boy must be famous or something, because the bus driver seems to be really excited that this kid just stepped into his life. When he asks us to move, I've made up my mind to stay already. "Get up, Magenta!" Ethan prods. "Why?" I reply smoothly. "He only needs one seat." "So he can sit next to his girlfriend!" Ethan says with little to no hesitation. The boy and girl get quite flustered. It's kinda funny to watch, actually. In the end, my stubbornness wins the battle. Woo hoo. Go me.

I lean back. Rest my eyes. It has been a very tiring Summer… despite the fact that my powers came at least two years ago, I still had quite a bit to worry about… Just as I'm starting to relax, something pierces my ears. An obnoxious voice. The voice belonging to a teenage boy, obviously, with it's pubescent, deep tone. I could just imagine the owner of the voice in my head; some tall, greasy idiot with acne, braces, and a thin brown mustache. "Man, I gotta tell you, my summer was tough. T-U-P-H, man."

You have GOT to be kidding me. Let's just hope this guy was being sarcastic. When no one laughed, I could only confirm my suspicions about his looks. What a loser. After a while of listening in on their conversation, I just couldn't take the suspense any longer. I turned around in my seat, looked about for the origin of the voice, only to come upon… well… the origin of the noise. The only thought I managed to make out about the guy was that I was correct in my assumption that he was tall. Then, there came the entire reason I loathe the bus with an entirety of my soul.

We took off. Yes. Took OFF. Left the ground. Flew.

Let me tell you something. Buses don't fly. I don't think so, the President doesn't think so, and I should think that most of the kids on the bus also didn't think so, for they all began to scream as though we were all going to die. Not like I didn't think the same thing… The sudden gush of pressuring force caused me to remain pinned backwards in my seat, my eyes continually locked on the obnoxious boy. Among all the screaming, I could gather quite a few things…

1. He was just as tall as I imagined.

2. The neon yellow he wore hurt my eyes.

3. He was pinker than an uncooked hot dog.

4. He was insanely good looking.

5. Did I actually just WRITE that! Ignore number four! Ignore it!

Let me tell you, being trapped backwards staring at some guy who just happened to be screaming his head off isn't exactly the most fun thing to do in the world. When the bus finally landed with a jolt, I was ready to go home. Quite unluckily for me… the day had already begun.

Cliffhangers. The second reason why I, Magenta, enjoy the power of being the one who tells the story.

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Ello! If you don't know, m'name is Kokea… and I'm kinda new. This is my first Sky High fic, so tell me what you think of it! Thanks a ton!


	2. Chapter 2

Oh my goodness! I feel so freakishly special! My first chapter on my first fic, and I already have TEN reviews! That's so cool… I'm excited that my story is getting this much attention.

I couldn't continue, mostly because I had simply run out of inspiration. However, at the sight of all of your reviews, and all the good things you were all saying, faith was slapped RIGHT back into me! -beams-

Special thanks to my reviewers: Tenni, Xeria123, Villow-41z, SpiritsFlame, K8thekurst, Calvin the Stupendos Man, Talinna, Perfect-In-Purple, Sky-101, and CMHValex! I hope all of you continue to read in the future! Now, without further ado…

ONWARDS, TO CHAPTER TWO!

Ps. I changed my review type, so now anonymous reviews will get through!

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The bus ride ended. Wait a minute… the bus ride… ENDED! This was probably the best news that could possibly have greeted my mind at this moment. After being pinned backwards staring at the hot dog boy, the rest of the day would probably seem like a vacation. As soon as I was able, I ripped the seatbelt from it's strangle hold on my body, standing up quickly.

"Magenta…"

Ugh… that was so gross. I can't believe I thought those things…

"Magenta…."

I'm going to be sick. Honestly. I am going. To be sick. Not just from staring at that neon headache either. Motion sickness is probably one of my worst traits…

"Magenta!"

I snapped out of my thoughts, looking over my shoulder to find the source of the intruding noise. Ethan. "What?" I asked, quirking a brow and trying to look as tough as possible. Not like it really MATTERED with Ethan. He pretty much knew the real me. Of course, you, the reader, DOESN'T know the real me. At least, not yet. Did I mention just how much I looove the power of being the narrator?

Ethan furrowed his brow, as though he were figuring out some crazy math problem. "Nothing…it's just that… well… for a second there, you looked like you had just stepped in a major pile of dog crap." I blinked. Was it really that bad? Did I really display THAT much emotion onto my sleeve all at once? Did I…

I was ripped once more from my thoughts, this time by another kid on the bus. He shoved me forward. Apparently, I was blocking the entire aisle way, and it was time to get off the bus.

…well, DUH, it was time to get off the bus. He shouldn't have pushed me, other than to be a jerk. I should've given him a good piece of my mind… if I hadn't been busy stealing one last glance at the boy behind me before clomping down the tall stairs of the bus and onto the school grounds.

I always wondered just why buses had tall stairs. Was it so that people wouldn't trip as easily? Because that's kind of dumb. I mean, you trip JUST as easily… it's just a farther distance to fall on your face. Honestly, I'm just waiting for the papers to come out with a new breaking story: "Young Boy Breaks Back on Bus Stairs; Driver Being Sued for All He's Worth."

…I should really stay on subject, shouldn't I?

Geez… telling a story sure is hard… especially when it's your own story that you're telling.

Okay. Okay. Okayokayokay. Back to the story.

Where were we?

Oh yeah. The bus.

I stepped off the bus and onto the school grounds. And while I had originally come into this situation with my typical bad mood, I couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight that was held before me. This school was actually FLOATING.

I mean, I had heard stories about this place from my Mom. But to actually be, to EXIST, on a piece of earth that was floating 200 stories off the ground, defying gravity… well, that's pretty awesome. If you know what I mean.

The school grounds were so busy. It seemed as though everyone was flaunting his or her powers in one way or another. A girl practiced a cheer routine on one side of the quad… along with half a dozen copies of herself. Two kids flew onto the grounds, soaring right over us like a pair of fighter jets. A boy shot a laser from his eye into the behind of a passing girl, on the other side of the quad. In response, the girl promptly froze them into a couple of jerk-flavored popsicles.

There were just so MANY of them. So many teenagers, just like me. They had powers, and they were proud. They didn't have to hide it, like so many others did. I already knew I was going to like this place… very much.

…

ERM… I mean as much as a teenage girl COULD like school. Because school is a horrible place to be in the first place. It's a total drag. Eheh. ME. Like a SCHOOL. What a thought, eh?

Ahem… right. Back to the story.

The group of freshman traveled along the quad like a group of tourists. It wasn't until a bizarre looking kid zipped down the front steps of the building that we all really started to pay ATTENTION to one another. This guy had super speed. And was obviously quite proud of it, as he began to run circles around us.

Because the great majority of the freshmen were wimps, they backed up to get away from this human blender. The people backing up ran into the people who weren't backing up, causing them to back up.

Follow me so far?

Eventually, all twenty-something of us were smashed up against one another, totally invading personal space. Seriously… they shattered the personal bubble rule.

…SHATTERED IT.

When the speedy kid started to slow down, yet another boy from the top steps made his way toward us. I'm not sure what exactly to call his form of transportation, however. He would stretch out his body, balancing on his hands as he fell back onto his feet. He'd then go back to his hands. Kinda like an inch worm, ya know? What would you call that? It's not exactly running… and it's not exactly walking….

Eh, what do YOU know? You're only the reader.

"Freshman!" Barked the speedy character. "Your attention please!" At this point in time, I took the initiative to look the pair up and down. They kind of reminded me of the three stooges… except there were only two of them. One of them, the fast one, reminded me of a slab of meat getting ready for the grill. His dead carcass alone could probably feed an entire village of cannibals for WEEKS.

The second one, you know, the one with the stretchy limbs, looked to be someone who might be my friend. You know, if I hadn't already pegged him for a jerk. He dressed like a punk. He was tall, and skinny. A horribly attractive skull was displayed across the front of his shirt. Charming.

That was sarcasm, I hope you know.

Stretch Armstrong leaned an elbow against his shorter, pudgier friend. "I'm Lash, and this is Speed."

Wow. What original names. Did they come up with those themselves? Or did their Mommies help them?'

Speed continued where Lash had left off. "As representatives of the Sky High welcoming committee, we'd be HAPPY to collect that $15 dollar new student fee." Lash extended his arm towards Ethan, beckoning for him to pay up.

Honestly… what a horrible scam! Did they seriously think that any of us could possibly fall for such garbage? It lacks finesse… refinement… originality… not to mention brains in general. I let a small smirk cross my face. Boy would THEY be surprised when Ethan totally blows them off!

"Um…" Ethan stammered. "There was nothing about a new student fee in the handbook…"

My expression dropped like a rock off the side of the school grounds. O….KAY…. perhaps Ethan wasn't as lightning quick as I had pegged him to be. I exhaled heavily, crossing my arms and rolling my eyes. Hopefully, my fellow students would get the hint.

"Okay guys… very funny. I'll take over from here." I looked up for the source of the voice.

Enter Miss Perfect. The girl looked to be a collection of pretty much everything I ever learned to hate in Junior High. For one thing… she wore pink.

"Hi guys… I'm Gwen Grayson, your student body president."

For the OTHER thing… she had an alliterated name.

I _HATE _people with alliterated names. Like Molly Morris or Adam Anderson or Travis Trenton. They're always the most popular in school, they're always the captains of whatever team of whatever sport that they play, and they're ALWAYS the meanest, most back-stabbing of any other kind of typical high school student. One thing is for certain… an alliterated name can only be a bad omen for the future.

And while you won't find out my last name in this story, I can tell you for certain that it DOES NOT start with an M.

Gwen tossed her perfect brown hair and began to talk.

And talk.

And talk.

Aaaaaaaand talk.

For goodness sakes. Would she ever stop talking! This Gwen Grayson was like a broken record. She talked about her friends… about her teachers… about her experiences… and about a couple rules for school. Real typical stuff, ya know? Only use your powers for good, no running in the hallways, yadda yadda.

Finally, she wrapped up her little sermon. "If you just follow those few simple rules, I promise you won't fall off the edge of the school!"

A handful of students forced a polite laughter.

I wasn't one of them.

However, this was only the beginning of my traumatizing experiences today. You should just WAIT until we get to the gym… boy, will THAT be a bag of fun.

Of course, that won't happen in THIS chapter. Stay tuned, kiddies, for Magenta a'int done rambling yet. Oh no. Not even CLOSE.

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I hope this chapter kept up to par with the last one… And I PROMISE that the next chapter will be up within the next few weeks. I won't let this story die… hopefully. -eheh-


	3. Chapter 3

Err… hello… -hides-

I'm so SORRY! It seems as though I'm only updating every seven months or so. oo; I just hope that some of the amazing reviewers who liked my work over a year ago STILL like it today. nn;

I wrote this a few days back, but up until this point, I was unable to get the document uploader to work. xx; At least it's up now, right?!

Weeeeell… here ya go. Chapter three! Whoo!

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So far… this school seems to be about average. Well, you know what I mean, as average as ANY other high school currently floating nearly two hundred stories off ground, filled with teenagers crammed full of super powers.

The group of freshmen was herded into the gym, akin to a flock of upright sheep. I made sure to stay near the back of the group, so as to keep and eye on the pink hot dog boy…

…Man, I really need to think up a better nickname for him.

The gym was fairly well lit; the sun from the enormous windows casting huge shadows of us on the wooden floor beneath. There was no one in the gym to meet us, however. For a brief moment, I wondered what would happen if they closed the gym doors on us, locking them, flooding them with noxious gasses until we pass out and die, slowly, one…by one… by one…

My head was ripped by these sudden, horrifically morbid thoughts by a sharp push down on my shoulder. My knees buckled, and I ducked. Good thing, too. If I hadn't ducked, I probably would have been smacked rather hard in the back of the head.

…by what appeared to be none other than Tinkerbell herself.

No, wait, never mind. It's just the Principal.

After her unnecessarily showy entrance, she took her place behind the podium near the front of the gym, spreading her arms like we should all just be giving her a great big hug.

"Good morning!" She spoke grandly. Pompously. I didn't like her. "I am Principal Powers."

An alliterated name. That explains the intense hate-beams that seem to be oozing from her every pore. Principal Tinkerbell went on.

"Behalf of all the faculty and staff, welcome, to Sky High!!"

At this point in time, the boy who I have been affectionately referring to as "Hot Dog Boy", decided to make his presence known. He whooped loudly, clapping his hands once or twice. When nobody laughed or joined in, he settled back down, looking a little pinker than usual. I blinked. He's kidding. Right?

The Principal went on, as though that never actually happened. She went on to describe something called 'power placement'. I had heard about it from my Mom. But apparently, All-American boy in front of me HADN'T. "P-Power placement?" He murmurs, sounding a little green around the gills. His girlfriend piped up, "Sounds fascist."

I rolled my eyes, letting Ethan do all the explaining. "You know, power placement. It's how they decide where you're going to go." He obviously didn't explain it clear enough. I added to his definition, "The hero track, or the loser track."

"There's a loser track?" He squeaked. Yeah. This kid was DEFINITELY hiding something. Ethan evaluated for him, calmly, "I believe the term is 'hero support'."

The Principal finished up her speech, after spending what seemed like an infinite amount of time talking about nothing. She began to give an introduction to the man who would be giving us our power placements, 'Coach Boomer', motioning us to turn around.

Out of nowhere, there's this platform, with a large, 40-something man standing proudly on top. Just when in the heck did HE come in? How much time had the faculty at this school spent practicing on how to soundlessly set up a mini-stage in the center of the gym without anyone noticing? Is this where all our tax dollars were going?

Just as soon as he had arrived, this "Coach Boomer" fellow started a little speech of his own. For goodness sakes… it seemed like the only thing anyone EVER did at this school was lecture. He went on for a few minutes about how "His word is law" etcetera, etcetera. I probably could have baked a cake in the amount of time it took for him to get it through our brains just how 'high and mighty' he was.

Coach Boomer seemed to me like the kind of guy who peaked in high school, then went downhill from there.

When he was finally done yapping, he called on what appeared to be the smallest, most pathetic little creature in our freshman class. Way to be the bigger man, Coach.

"Little Larry." The Coach sneered, beckoning him to the platform. "Get up here." The poor kid looked scared out of his wits. I crossed my arms, glancing from side to side at the kids surrounding me. They all looked to be as horrified as he was.

Little did WE know, that Little Larry wasn't all that… Little. He was a shape shifter, much like me. Although he was a bit more…er… impressive. "Big Larry." Coach Boomer nodded, impressed. "Hero!" Larry stepped down off the platform, looking quite fulfilled.

The Coach pointed at another kid, but before he could say anything, the little pink boy shoved his way to the platform. I perked up. This should be good.

"Did I say you were next?" Coach Boomer snapped at him. "Name's Zach, Coach Boomer. Try not to drop your clipboard."

Zach. I always kinda liked that name.

…Wait. What?!

Zach reared his shoulders back, clapping his hands together dramatically. I looked on eagerly. But nothing was happening. "Any time now, super star." The Coach said, his patience already waning. "I'm doing it." Zach insisted. I blinked a few more times, squinting, trying to see his point. "Doing what?" Coach asked.

"I'm glowing!"

You have GOT to be kidding me. I relaxed onto my back foot, my eyes closed, breathing deeply. He was glowing. Holy… crap.

Zach fumbled about his words, trying to explain the greatness of his power, but Coach Boomer had already made his decision. "Sidekick," he stated matter-of-factly. At this time, Pinky leaned in close to the older man, trying to convince him to change his mind. Of course, we all know where THAT was headed.

"SIIIIIIIIIIDEKICK!" Coach Boomer…well, boomed. Zach went flying clear off the stage.

Man, for a guy without an alliterated name, I sure didn't like this guy much.

Things got worse, when he called Ethan to the platform.

Now… I love Ethan like a brother. But he seriously doesn't know when to shut up sometimes. For instance; he spent about a minute trying to relay his intense feelings at finally meeting THE Coach Boomer. In front of everyone. "Is that your power?" The Coach shot coyly. "Butt-Kissery?"

Oh for goodness sakes. This guy was worse than Zach.

I won't even go into the details on this one, but let's just say that we all knew where Ethan was going to go. I sighed deeply, staring up at the ceiling beams. Was this day EVER going to end? Student after student took their turn up on the platform of horrors. Each one was sorted into a different path, one that would determine the rest of their super-hero lives.

Just as a kid with six arms showed his stuff, I glanced over at the glowing pink wonder. To my great surprise, he was actually looking back at me. Zach got this look on his face similar to that of a little kid being caught taking something from the cookie jar. His head snapped back forward, as though if he were really fast, I wouldn't have noticed him staring at me. I smirked. Hey, I couldn't help it.

"Hey!" I was snapped back out of my daze. Coach Boomer was in my face. "Purple kid! Let's go!"

Sighing, I took my turn on the platform. I know how my powers work. And I KNOW that they're not exactly hero-material. I didn't even know what I was doing here, anymore. Going out of my way to look just as bored as I felt, I faced this screaming ogre.

"What's your shtick?" He asked me. "I'm a shape shifter." I answered simply. There. I might as well get his hopes up, before I disappoint him. "Okay, shift it." Coach actually sounded like he might enjoy this. I rolled my eyes, tucking down into my signature position, curling into… a guinea pig. Yes. A guinea pig.

Nothing too spectacular, I know. But hey, you never know when you're going to need to get into a really small space, do you? "A guinea pig?" The Coach asked, hunching himself down to look at me. "Yuuup." I answered bluntly. "Not even a SWARM of guinea pigs?"

I rolled my eyes, although I was probably too small for him to really notice. "Uh, no." I replied in my squeaky little voice. "Sidekick." Coach Boomer sneered, shooing me away. "Bite me." I snapped, scuttling off the platform. When I reached the bottom, I uncurled myself, standing up to full height.

Only to come face to face with Zach.

Oh, goody.

"Hey um… I'm Zach." He stammered, offering me one of those large, sweaty palms to shake. What was I, a dog? "Yeah." I said flatly back at him. "I know. Glowing boy."

Zach beamed, almost as if he though that it were a compliment. "Yeah!!" He said happily. The kid almost reminded me of one of those little dogs, that you can always trick into going to fetch something that you didn't actually throw. "Anyway…" He went on, "I…I just want to say that I think your power is…er… really cool."

I managed a small smile. Was Zach pathetic? You bet your life on it.

But I had to hold SOME sympathy for him. He didn't exactly seem like the type who shelled out compliments all that often. "Thanks." I said softly, before rejoining my ranks. Good thing, too, as the show was just about to begin.

Picture this: Coach Boomer versus the Wood Nymph from earlier on the bus. She was refusing to show him her powers. Flat out REFUSING. Something along the lines of, "supporting a flawed system" and "disagreeing with the hero-sidekick dichotomy".

Huh. Maybe that girl isn't so bad after all.

We all jumped as the bell rang. It was lunch. Aaah… lunch. An escape from all this, for certain.

"We'll pick it up right after lunch." Coach Boomer stated, never missing a beat. "Starting with…" He scanned the crowd momentarily, before his gaze came to a rest on Captain America. "Yooooooou…" He said ominously, pointing down at the kid. He looked like he was about to vomit everywhere. This should be…interesting.

I turned to leave the gym, when Ethan grabbed my arm. "Wait, Magenta, aren't you going to come eat with us?" I turned around. When he referred to 'us', he must have meant his brand new friends; flower child, mr. stars-and-stripes, and, of course, Zach. I sighed. This was going to be a VERY long day.

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Ahaha… another chapter update. I'm sorry for what is probably horrible grammar/spelling/phrasing in this story… I'm finishing it up at around two in the morning. –colapses-

I'll probably edit it at a later date.

Hopefully it won't be another 7 months before I update again. Until then, keep sending me your reviews, you beautiful, beautiful people:D


	4. Chapter 4

We tromp single-file through a rather busy cafeteria. All I can concentrate on is how much I really don't want to glance behind me.

And then I do it again.

"I'm telling you, Boomer's going to regret making me a sidekick." Zack states for what I swear is the hundred millionth time. I wonder how he can manage to keep all the food on his tray while he's flailing one of his arms about in a rebellious fashion.

As if his fool-proof argument of 'he's going to regret it' needed ANY more supporting facts, Zach continued in his angered drawl. "One day he's going to be all alone, walking to his car… And drop his keys." I blinked. Puh-LEEZE tell me that this wasn't going where I thought it was going.

"…And I won't glow to help him find 'em!" He finished triumphantly.

Part of my brain wanted to explode.

As if on queue, our favorite screaming coach stood up from a nearby lunch table. "You got a problem with me?" He asked in his own, pompous fashion. My muscles froze on the spot. I wasn't looking forward to seeing Zach splattered against the wall once more. Although, based off the last ten, fifteen minutes of his never-ending spout about how he was to teach everyone a lesson in heroism, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone ELSE in our party were looking forward to the sight.

Zach looked as though he were about to crap himself. "N-No." He stammered. All of the sudden, we all seemed to be miles away. Ethan was the only one who stood by his side. Part of me wanted to yell at him to get out of the way.

"No WHAT?" Coach Boomer snarled, puffing out his chest. Zach responded quickly. "No SIR!" He said, almost frantically. "No Sir… No Sir…"

Just when I feared Zach was about to start to cry, Coach Boomer grew a large head of orange hair. I blinked. THAT was a new trick.

To follow up his orange hair, he also spawned a blue baseball cap and a tacky orange and yellow ensemble. I groaned. It was only….Only… Oh, old Whatshisname, fresh from his throng of stuck-up heroes to-be. I shouldn't have been surprised. Coach Boomer didn't seem like the kind of guy to associate closely with a lunch table full of male students.

…Or was he?

"Just messin' with ya, sidekick." He slurred, patting Zach on the shoulder and returning to his giggling cronies. I rolled my eyes. Heroes were already shaping up to be my least favorite of people at this school.

Zach struggled forming words in response to the cruel trick that had just been played upon him. He opened his mouth, only to close it again. It was almost like a large, yellow fish. As if it were actually a decent rebuttal, Ethan shouted, "You're not supposed to use your powers outside of the school gym!!"

Sometimes I wonder why I even hang out with that kid.

Defeated, Zach hung his head and returned to our line of people, this time becoming eerily silent. I didn't like it. For some reason. As much as I hated to admit it, Zach just wasn't Zach unless he was yammering on about something. While Ethan and Forest Nymph were scouting for a table, I fell back to talk to him.

His head was slung down, as though he were examining something intensely interesting on his sandwich. He glanced pathetically up at me, before finally letting his sights fall back to the bread on his platter. "Oh, come ON." I said, a little too sharply than I would have liked. "It's not THAT bad."

"I feel so stupid." Zach muttered. "I mean… GLOWING? What kind of lame power is THAT?" He sighed. My heart wrenched.

…Wait.

My heart did NOT wrench.

It simply… um… Sighed in pity!

Yes. My heart SIGHED IN PITY.

"Don't say that." I said, joining his gaze on his food. I spoke before I could refrain from the sappy words that were about to be thrown from my mouth like vomit. "You have amazing confidence. Never loose it."

He looked up at me as though I had just given him a thousand dollars and a puppy. My brain scrambled to find something that could cut the schmaltzy mood that I had just so cleverly laid out.

"Besides…" I continued quickly. "I can always just leave a few guinea pig pellets in his hat one of these days. See how cocky he feels after THAT."

Zach grinned.

I blushed.

Before the mood could get any more awkward, Ethan shouted something about finding a table on the far side of the cafeteria. I couldn't begin to imagine the kind of relief that followed that statement.

Without a word, I left Zach's side and rushed to sit next to Ethan. No need to make things any more… Strange.

I shouldn't worry. Because whenever things get to be just a little too awkward, I it seems as though I can count on the All American to shift problems over to his side of the table.

"Okay am I crazy or is that guy really looking at me."

He muttered the words as though the angry looking boy behind him could tell if he were talking, despite the fact that his back was to him. I leaned to the left, so as to see just who it was who was staring so intently.

Why. If it isn't my very favorite walking pun. Warren Peace.

What IS IT with superheroes and have ridiculously cheesy names? Warren Peace? WAR 'n PEACE? Come on… You'd think that his parents wouldn't be so idiotic. Even I can admit that my own name is a little sweet around the edges… My name's Magenta, therefore I must wear all purple.

And ultimately open myself up to be the butt of endless jokes throughout my years in middle school.

'Why don't you dye your hair blue and call yourself Aqua?'

'How's it going MAROON?'

'How're your parents, Scarlet and Navy?'

I just like PURPLE, okay?!

My mind snapped away from this barrage of repressed memories as Zach opened his mouth to say something slightly helpful for once. "Dude…" He said, avoiding eye contact with Warren, "That's Warren Peace."

Green Bean responded almost immediately. "THAT'S Warren Peace? I've heard about him… His Mom's a superhero and his Dad's a super villain. Barron Battle." I stared at her. How did she know that? I'd known Warren for years… He'd gone to my elementary school, yet even the most gossipy of girls never mentioned anything about his star-crossed parents.

You know… A beautiful heroine falling into the arms of the very villain that she'd just apprehended… That's almost romantic.

…Not that I'm big on romance, you know.

"So where do I come in?" He stammered.

Ethan calmly filled the poor boy in. "Your dad busted his dad. Quadruple life sentence."

I piped up before I could stop myself. "No chance of parole until AFTER his third life." What can I say; this was my only chance to prove that I knew something on the matter!

He sighed pathetically. "That's great. My first day of Sky High and I already have an archenemy. Hmm."

This small break in conversation gave me a chance to connect some dots. Warren Peace seemed to hate Mr. Stars n' Stripes quite a bit… Your dad busted his dad… Patriotic colors… Warren hates him…

Wait.

Wait just ONE MINUTE.

Uncle Sam Junior's Dad is THE COMMANDER?

No wonder that bus driver guy was so excited about the prospect of meeting this kid!!

So… This sloppy excuse for a teenage boy is really Will Stronghold.

Not that I should be all that impressed. My Mom said that The Commander's a little full of himself. At least now I have a name for boy sitting across from me. Will.

By the time I finally began to tune into the conversation that had seemingly already passed. I was a little grateful. I had no more to say on the subject.

The table was silent for a few uncomfortable moments. It seemed as though no one else had any more to say on the subject either. Thankfully, we has a resident clown to cheer up the rest of us.

"Um…" Zach began sheepishly, feebly opening his pudding cup so he could seem nonchalant.

"…What's a hero-sidekick dichotomy?"

I felt a sudden urge to slap my forehead. It seemed like that was happening a lot recently.

Still. It seemed as though this obviously stupid question was just the medicine needed to clear up the awkward air around the table. Flower Child looked all too happy to respond. And quickly.

"Well, first, a dichotomy is defined as two groups that are initially similar but upon closer inspection prove to be contradictory opposites. Such is the hero-sidekick ideal. To separate the students at this school into two opposite groups is nothing short of racial segregation. The masochistic desires of the public 'gifted' school system is only worsened by the chauvinist post-Vietnam War heroes that give it life in such an already flawed society…"

My, did this girl like to use big words. Maybe it made her feel smarter or something. At least she was passionate about something. I should vote for her for president someday.

One thing was for sure… Zach didn't understand a single word.

Saved by the bell. It was time for the rest of power placement.

THIS aught to be interesting.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I'm not going to lie.

I, too, had to look up the definition of 'dichotomy'.

-awkward chuckle-

Please review!!


	5. Authors Note

I've finally finished a couple more chapters for you guys. But first, I think I'm going to post a little author's note.

The success of this story has really, deeply touched me. I mean, I've completed a few stories in my time on other sites, but not very many of them got more than ten reviews. To some, having thirty reviews isn't that big of a deal. But to me, that's thirty different occasions in which someone has taken time out of his or her lives, read my story, and then decided to encourage a hopeful young teenager in front of her computer.

That is exactly why I feel so horrible.

I've updated two or three times over the course of a year and a half, which is flat out ridiculous. I get annoyed with myself when I think of all the times that I've thought about updating this story, had the time, and then deliberately decided not to. Even worse when I open up a word document, write half of a chapter, and THEN quit. For that, I humbly ask for your forgiveness.

I'm sick of making excuses on why it takes me so long to update each time. All I can say is that I hope that I'll start to update more often. I want to thank all of you who have actually stuck by me for over a YEAR. I started in the middle of the day this time, so hopefully they won't read as though they were written during the wee hours of the morning (which, sadly, the grand majority of them were).

All I can say in my defense is that I'm a busy teenage girl with overbearing parents, so-so grades, and a job that's been eating my life. And that's really about it.

Your patience inspires me everyday.

Quite Sincerely,

Kokea Kianti.


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